Captain's Holiday
by Bastian
Summary: Captain Pellaeon goes travelling, while Thrawn is left behind
1. Beginneth

A different kind-of story, not meant to be taken seriously. It's not really based on the actual characters or universe or anything really. I started writing this as an exercise, to see if I could actually write a story with not too much thought being put into it. And also just to have some fun. That, I did.

Leonard Nimoy or George Takei or one of them once said something about how in _Star Trek V_ he thought that it was cheap entertainment with the crew do things like having Scotty bash his head on a beam, with Sulu and Chekov lost in the woods and Uhura doing that naked dancing, and this story sinks to that level, and beyond. But I can live with it.

So far, I've started working on the first chapter but, if anyone actually is interested, I'm not very good at making myself write, even this .... stuff. But I have an outline for where this story is to go and I'm hoping that it will become, somewhat, _more_ intelligent. 

Feedback: Deliver the diss.

Beginneth

The bridge of the ISD _Chimaera_ was reasonably quiet when Captain Pellaeon exited the turbolift. He stepped onto the main deck and looked around for a moment, as the doors made a swooshing sound behind him as they closed. He clasped a styrofoam cup of coffee in his right hand and a datapadd in his left, looking over some reports he'd had sent to himself early on. The ninth game of the Gault sector's world series hoverball championship had been played earlier that night. Pellaeon had been too busy assisting Grand Admiral Thrawn with some indescribable matters of importance so had forgot to watch it. 

Actually, he pondered, he hadn't really forgot to watch it. He could've possible rescheduled their indescribable matters of importance He just didn't exactly feel like broaching the subject at all with the Admiral.

Who knows, his mind pondered, the Admiral might even have agreed to the rescheduling. Indeed perhaps the Admiral would've joined him. Would he have wanted that? he asked himself. The answer was not forthcoming. Why am I talking to myself? he heard his mind ask itself, as he listened in the background. There was no forthcoming answer to that question either. 

He walked forwards, moving to the forward section where the crewpits lay, passing by several crew members. These were all crew members from gamma shift, the shift that ran from late evening to early morning. Pellaeon approached the shift leader. Lt. Commander John Smith, a medium height and built man with short red-hair, was sitting in Pellaeon's usual bridge chair but with the footrests lowered, his feet stretched out upon them. 

The more junior officer looked at his captain for a few seconds and then asked, "Do you want me to vacate your seat sir?" though he didn't budge a centimetre.

Pellaeon nodded. "Yes."

Smith's eyes wandered from Pellaeon to Grand Admiral Thrawn's empty chair. "Okay." He jumped out of the chair, standing next to Thrawn's chair as Pellaeon took his seat. It was warm, he noticed. Mmmmm. Normally he didn't like to sit in a chair someone had recently vacated but it become slightly chilly all of a sudden. Someone from beta shift had probably left the air conditioning on too long. He wondered if he should have worn a cardigan.

Pellaeon pulled a lever on the side of his chair and a tray table ejected itself. He folded it down and placed the datapadd flat on the surface, while his styrofoam cup went into the cup holder.

"So..." began Smith. Pellaeon looked up at him. He was still standing. Standing because of the reaction Thrawn would've made if he'd dared tried to sit there. Pellaeon grimaced internally. He didn't like to think of what would happen if Smith tried it someday. No not at all. "What's that you're looking at?"

"It's the main marks from the ninth game of Gault sector's hoverball world series." The captain then took a breath. 

"Who's winning?" 

Pellaeon inwardly sighed. Loudly. "The game has finished so someone has already won." 

"Ah."

Yeah, thought Pellaeon. He focused on the datapadd again.

"So who won?"

"I don't know. I'm reading each round as they went. I'll find out at the end who won."

"Ah." Smith turned and moved away and Pellaeon assumed the man had gone into some other section of the bridge. He hadn't. Seconds later Smith returned holding something in his hands. He placed the stool on the floor, between Thrawn and Pellaeon's chairs and seated himself, his feet resting on the bottom rung. He looked over so he could read the datapadd. There was silence for a moment, followed by another similar lengthened moment where Smith read what was on the padd quietly, but loud enough that Pellaeon could hear. "Four out for thirty?!" he suddenly exclaimed loudly. "Gee, what's going on?"

Pellaeon coughed. "Could you perhaps not be so loud...you're ruining the mood."

Smith put a hand to his mouth. "Sorry, sorry. My bad. I'll...be quiet." They both returned to the way they'd been reading before Smith's outburst.

And Pellaeon was now able to actually devote his full attention to the material he was reading. He'd read all the way up to round seven and so far the game had the feeling that it would be another one of those ordinary games. Someone would score a few points on one team, then Team Two would score some more points and finally the third team would round it up, again, with some more points scored. Interesting stuff.

There was a sudden change in music and then an alert siren sounded suddenly. Pellaeon was visibly jolted and looked around for something to focus on. 

"Sup?" he heard Lt. Cmdr. Smith call down to the crewpits.

Several crewers looked up and then an Officer called out. "A ship has just dropped out of hyperspace four point two five kilometres away."

"Hmmm," said Pellaeon, nodding. "Yes, that would trigger the too close for comfort...sensor....thing." He coughed. "IFF code?" he ordered.

"It reads as a Rebel slash New Republic Calamari class battle cruiser." 

That type of ship was one of the few that actually could cause some damage to an Imperial Star Destroyer such as the _Chimaera_, thus explaining it's presence. 

"There's a new craft alert going on," called out the same officer who'd spoken before. He looked at his console. "Reading several T-Wings leaving it's mothership, on intercept course. Also picking up several X-Wings launching."

Pellaeon rose to his feet and looked out the window, glancing around a bit to see where the ships were. He turned to the crewpit guy. "Where are they?"

He pointed towards the rear of the bridge. "Thataway."

Pellaeon nodded and then looked at Smith who was pretty much doing nothing, focusing in on Pellaeon's datapadd and the hoverball tournament thing. "Smith?" he called.

"Just a minute."

"Smith," Pellaeon repeated.

"Just five more minutes."

So Pellaeon sighed and continued. "Helm, bring us about at azimuth one-eighty degrees from current position. Signal TIE Fighter group Alpha and TIE Bomber group Beta to launch when ready."

Smith looked up and out to the approaching ships. "This should be good."

The ship spun around to face the other direction. There was a timeskip and a cutscene from TIE Fighter played and several fighters zoomed off to have a fight. A TIE fighter blew up, then an X-Wing blew up, then another X-Wing blew up, then ten more blew up. Finally everything was destroyed.

"That was fast," commented Smith. 

Then something terrible happened. While repositioning his buttocks, he lost hold of what was in his hands. As Pellaeon watched in horror, he dropped the datapadd. It landed with a thud and shattered into a million teeny tiny itty bitty teenty pieces. An inhuman shriek escaped his mouth, and then he yelled. "Nooooooooooooooooo!" 

* * *

Getting off work two hours late, Pellaeon entered The Bar at a slow pace. Looking around he saw that Guinan wasn't around. Ralf, Guinan's droid assistant, was serving instead. 

"Hey Cap," he said nodding in Pellaeon's direction. 

Pellaeon waved hello and took his seat at the bar. He mumbled a greeting, his head drooping down to the bar.

"Tough day?"

Pellaeon looked up with a look as if to say 'Aren't you observant'. "Something like that." 

"What happened?"

He shrugged. "Nothing much. The usual. The usual that somehow is different from six months ago and will be different six months from now. They're tricky, these 'usuals'."

"Thrawn killed another one of your crewers?"

"Not today." He proceeded to narrate some of the tiring events of the day such as the turbolift traffic jam, the TIE Offender practice session that had turned nasty and the opening of the new mall that he'd had to cut the declaration ribbon of.

"So, what can I do you for?"

Pellaeon sighed. "What do you think I want you to do?"

"Listen to mindless chit chat each day and deliver some usually meaningless advice?"

Pellaeon nodded slowly. "Yeah.... No! You're a barman! I think, coming into the bar and sitting here at the bar, with my hands on the, aforementioned, bar, I want something from, the bar. The Bar," he said emphasising the name. "Something to drink. If I wanted someone to tell my problems too, what do you think my personal log is for?"

"Summarising."

"Then I'll go to the counsellor or therapist!"

Ralf looked perplexed. "Therapists? We have those onboard?"

"Um." Pellaeon suddenly had no idea. "Maybe. But I'll tell you what I want, what I really," and then there was a substantially large pause of silence, before he continued, "really want. I came here to have a drink, so...give me a drink. That's an order."

"Okay." Ralf poured him a drink of some exotic alien alcohol and Pellaeon sculled it, a look of ecstasy on his face. "You want some more?" 

"Sure I do." Ralf looked at him for a moment before pouring another drink. The captain sculled that one too.

Many drinks later Pellaeon had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and ten shot glasses lay empty on the bar. "You remind me of him a bit y'know?" the captain was saying. "You do. You do." He paused. "I'm telling you you you do. Hmmm?"

"I'm sure I look like your brother, Cap," Ralf said with a grin. "But we're closing up."

"What?"

"I said 'we're closing up'."

"I heard you the first time! What?"

"Time to go, cap."

"I have to leave?"

"You have to leave." Ralf gave him a look. "Can you walk?"

"Can I walk? Can I, I, walk?" Pellaeon rose shakily to his feet. "I think I can..." Pellaeon stood for exactly four seconds before he fell forwards onto the bar. "I can!"

Ralf sighed once again and called over one of the droid waiters. "Fred, make sure Captain Pellaeon gets home okay, okay?"

"Sure thing."

* * *

Sitting at his desk in his private lair, a specific number of decks down from the bridge, Admiral Thrawn pressed the intercom so as to call his secretary. He bent down to speak into it. "Rukh. Summon Captain Pellaeon immediately."

Rukh pressed a button to respond. "Okay." He rose and walked out of the room.

On the bridge Pellaeon was seated in his chair. He'd had two trays placed on the tray table. The Inbox was overflowing with papers while the Outbox didn't have a single scrap as yet. Commander Ardiff was standing next to him, showing him several forms that he'd delivered personally which Pellaeon had to fill out. 

"Okay," Pellaeon said nodding. "I think all these crew members deserve their military funded holidays plus holiday pay. I'm sure they will all enjoy their...time away."

"Yes," agreed Ardiff, nodding. "We'll all have a blast." Pellaeon turned to Ardiff, his eyes barely noticeably becoming slits for a second before they returned to normalcy. "Blast..those rebels that is. Probably won't have time to even sit down what with all the...work going on. None of us will not...be doing....work." He looked warily at Pellaeon who still hadn't said a thing since Ardiff's unofficial announcement. 

Pellaeon said nothing but his mind was a fury inside. Steam shot out of his ears and his eyes blazed a red fury. He picked up his big rubber stamp from the inkpad and stamped down hard on the papers, stamping each one-by-one as hard as he could. 

"Uh...thanks....sir." Ardiff grabbed his papers and proceeded to run away.

Pellaeon continued stamping the table's surface itself now that it was bare. His mind was a daze and it was a few seconds before he realised what he'd done. 

"Dammit." He pulled out his hankie and proceeded to wipe up the mess he'd made. And then he sneezed. He put the hankie up to his nose as he sneezed, but inadvertently wiped some of the ink onto his face.

Pulling a sheet of paper from the Inbox, he raised his hand, holding the stamp, above the paper. He was just about to stamp his stamp but he heard a noise.

"Captain Pellaeon to the Information desk," came a voice over the loudspeakers. "Captain Pellaeon to the information desk."

Giving his face a wipe, the captain jumped out of his chair and looked to the desk, wondering what was up. Rukh was standing next to the desk, a pencil stuck over one ear. Pellaeon strolled up to Rukh where the Noghri joined up with him. They both entered the turbolift. Several seconds later the lift doors opened and they entered Thrawn's lair. 

Rukh took his seat behind his desk which was right next to the doorway, on the left as they entered. On the right was a couch and a water dispenser where Pellaeon rested himself. He looked up further into the room but his vision was obscured by a dense fog. Rukh spoke something into the intercom and a reply came seconds later. Rukh looked to Pellaeon. "Admiral Thrawn will see you now."

"Thanks." The captain rose and proceeded into the fog. The floor became different from it's usual metallic Imperial style and became much like the surface of a sewer with floor coverings that reminded him slightly of manhole covers. He thought he heard someone yell 'Cowabunga' but dismissed it as a triviality.

. He walked about fifteen metres straight ahead before the fog became less dense, and he felt carpet along the floor. Thrawn's lair opened up around him. The Admiral's desk sat almost completely against the back of the room, his computer situated upon it's top and a line of holo projectors up both sides of the room which were displaying a scrolling marquee. Pellaeon wasn't sure where he wanted to go today.

"Hey," he said in greeting to Thrawn.

"Good evening, Captain Pellaeon," spoke Thrawn in a loud spooky voice, his red eyes staring into him. "How are you this evening, Captain?"

"Okay, I guess." He nodded to Thrawn and gave a little fake smile where he clenched his teeth and opened his mouth slowly.

"Really?" asked Thrawn.

"Yes, really," answered Pellaeon, still gazing into Thrawn's eyes. He nodded for a few seconds.

"That is not what I have been led to believe," stated Thrawn matter-of-factly. He picked up a remote control of his desk and activated his holo-projectors. A series of clips, all showing Pellaeon began playing before the both of them. There was one clip from the bridge, then another from the bridge, one in the bar, one in the shower, then several more on the bridge. All showed Pellaeon with various degrees of emotional health, the shot of him trying to throw John Smith into the crewpits probably the worst of the lot, but the others weren't too good either. All showed him losing his temper.

Pellaeon watched the events unfold with a feeling of ambivalence, and wondered what exactly that meant since ambivalence meant he was feeling two completely opposite emotions. But wasn't ambivalence an emotion too, so wasn't he feeling three emotions? He was sure someone out there would explain it to him...oneday.

"Oh," he finally replied. "Yah, it was bad there for a moment. But I'm okay now."

Thrawn steepled his fingers before him. "Captain Pellaeon, I require all my officers to be operating at their best during this period of time that we are in, and it would not do for us to have my liasion to the fleet delivering sub-standard quality of work. Wouldn't you agree, Number One?"

"Sure. I guess."

"That is why I'm relieving you of command." Pellaeon's jaw dropped at this. "You're firing me?" he stammered.

The Admiral shook his head. "Not at all. I'm sending you off on vacation. I've had the _Chimaera_ set course for Bastion where we will remain for the duration of time before you return home." 

It was a lot for the captain to digest. "Wow. So...Wow. I'm like....wow." He paused shaking his head. "So how long do I get for this vacation?"

"Approximately, X amount of days," answered Thrawn.

"'Kay," answered Pellaeon. "And if I take less than....X amount?"

"You won't. The specific time period that I have just disclosed," began Thrawn, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, "has been calculated so as to provide as much time as is needed for the events that are to unfold, appropiately, quite coincidentally with your time away."

The captain stroked his chin in thought. "Ah yes. I see." He grinned. "Good thinking."


	2. Weekend

Took a while but finally made something besides the prologue. I don't usually read anything here at fanfiction.net that much, unless I'm looking for something specifically. Probably because this site is proactive, whereas when I used to download stuff from fanfix - Rebellion I'd read it whenever. So yeah, the point of this was to recommend some stories from there. 'The Skywalker Menace' is a good time travel story where Mara and Luke find themselves in the period of Episode 1. And there's 'The Freedom Saga' about a Rebel captain and his crew, by R. John Burke. He also did a story called 'Smugglers In A Dark Empire' with Mara Jade and Talon Kaarde as part of the 'Dark Empire' story. He did some stories here under the name rjb. And there's an Episode 1 parody somewhere there too.  
  
Weekend  
  
The Chimaera closed towards the blue-green Imperial headquarters planet that today had been codenamed Bastion. A large Golan II space station and several slightly smaller docking stations rested in orbit around the planet and Chimaera was on course for the nearer of the stations.   
  
Meanwhile Pellaeon was dressed in his civvies and walking with Ardiff down a corridor, who was similarly attired. Both were heading for the shuttlebay where they were to meet up with the rest of their companions. Ardiff and Pellaeon had decided to get several other people to go with them on their holiday, though they hadn't explicitly decided on what they were to do. That seemed like half the fun, so as to have an old-fashioned road trip, or so to speak.   
  
"Do you know who else is coming?" asked Pellaeon.  
  
Ardiff nodded. "When you first broached the idea to me, I thought it wise to consider those that you and I feel comfortable with. So there isn't a degree of unfamilarity around us or anything."  
  
"Hmmm. I agree."  
  
"So," continued Ardiff, "my first addition was Lt. Cmdr. John Smith." He gestured with his hands somewhat. "He's been introduced to us before and he's now 'familiar'." Ardiff used his fingers to show inverted commas.  
  
Pellaeon mused about that. "Right. That should be okay."  
  
"And I also invited the Tierces to accompany us."   
Now the captain gave him a look. "The Tierces? As in referring to Tierce from the stormtrooper divisons. Meaning plural, not singular?" He held up two fingers, as if showing a peace sign. "Two?"  
  
Ardiff nodded. "Mr and Mr Tierce." Pellaeon still gave him a look. "You know, Grodin and his partner Arvin?"  
  
Pellaeon gave a sigh. "Oh, I was thinking of something else."  
  
"No!" Ardiff said vehemently. "I'm not inviting any clones."  
  
"Commander, nothing wrong with a little unexpected prejudice but," Pellaeon said quietly, "Ixnay on the lonescay."  
  
"Ko-ay."  
  
So the captain and his first officer were still walking to the shuttlebay. It had been a long walk, considering the size of the ship so far, where they'd had to walk down the main staircase in the centre of the ship to the deck the shuttle bay was on and were traversing the distance from the stairs to the bay. Pellaeon had wanted to install people movers or at least have personal golf cart buggies for himself and Admiral Thrawn, but hadn't gotten around to it as yet.  
  
"So is that all that are coming?"  
  
Ardiff shrugged. "Well, I guess so. There were going to be more, in the original plan. I put out an invite to Moff Disra, the governor residing on the planet below us." There was a moment of silence.  
  
"And?"   
  
The commander gave him a look. "I don't think he will be joining us."   
"Damn, I sure wanted to meet him. I thought we'd have some interesting things to talk about." Pellaeon nodded. "Oh well. I'm sure we'll meet him eventually."   
  
They reached a set of automatic sliding doors and passing through they found themselves in the shuttlebay. Several people were clustered around a blue-coloured Lambda-class shuttle. The Tierces and John Smith were there but Pellaeon could also see Grand Admiral Thrawn, with Rukh standing behind him.   
  
"Greetings," welcomed Thrawn, once they'd stopped. "We have come to see you off."  
  
"Thanks!" responded Ardiff.   
  
"Bye," said Rukh waving goodbye for a second, before stopping. Everyone looked at him. He looked warily at them for a moment before he folded his arms in front of him.  
  
"We'll write every day," voiced Grodin Tierce.   
  
"Yeah, we'll send you a postcard," spoke up Arvin.  
  
John Smith meanwhile grunted and headed up the ramp into the shuttle. Pellaeon took that as his cue. "Later."  
  
  
The shuttle blasted out of the shuttlebay and turned, heading away from Bastion. There were no obstacles at all in their path, no asteroids strangely spelling the words 'Captain's Holiday'. And on the ship there were no attempts by any of the passengers to try to create the feel of an introductory sequence, with the names of the passengers and people on the Chimaera mentioned. And there especially wasn't some sort of song playing through the speakers, much like the one on 'Gilligan's Island'. The theme music to 'Crusade' was playing instead.  
  
"Bye Chimaera," called Pellaeon.  
  
The shuttle vanished into hyperspace.  
  
  
Pellaeon looked out the window of the shuttle at the blue-swirl of hyperspace, a strange feeling in his stomach. He wasn't sure if it was the coffee he'd just drunk, or if it was a physical effect to the emotions he might be feeling. 'Might be' was the best description he could come up with, as his mind kept coming back to dwell on the Chimaera and the past, but he couldn't determine just what it was he felt about it. "So where are we going to go today?"  
  
Ardiff pulled out his copy of 'Vector Prime' and opened it to the map page, so that the four of them could see. Grodin was driving. "Well," he said, pointing to a particular dot. "We're here. Bastion. Well not exactly, but close enough. If we go right, we've got this planet with a bracket around it and some other planet. Belkadan."  
  
"What's that then?" inquired John Smith, sitting lazily in his chair.   
  
Ardiff shrugged. "Would not have a clue. Do any of you know what that planet is?"  
  
There was a pause. "Um. Sorry, no," came Grodin's voice.  
  
"What happens if we go left?" inquired Pellaeon.   
  
"That depends," Ardiff answered. "If we're staying inside Imperial space, we have a choice of two other planets, not a lot of tourist attractions on either of them."  
  
"Which planets?"  
  
"Well," the commander continued, "there's that planet with all the money on it or we could go see another Ubiqtorate base, down at Yaga Minor."  
  
"Hey," said Arvin excitedly, "why don't we fly out into the Unknown Regions?"  
  
"Why would we want to do that?" asked Smith.   
  
He sighed. "Cuz, it's right next to us and we could go and do some exploring. It's the Unknown Regions, right? The regions that are unknown?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Arvin continued. "We could go and make it a little less unknown, plus have an adventure while we're at it. That would be fun, wouldnt it?"  
  
Smith and Ardiff were considering it, while Pellaeon watched them. "Why don't we try something a little more familiar. Why not Tatooine or Nar Shadaa?"  
  
That idea sparked a reaction."Alright," conceded Smith. "You go to Tatooine, we'll go to Nar Shadaa." He grunted.   
  
"Seriously," spoke up Grodin, "Nar Shadaa from 'Jedi Knight' or that hole of a joint in 'Darksaber'?"  
  
There was a unanimous vote. " 'Jedi Knight'," they all said.   
  
"Waitaminute, waitaminute, waitaminute," said Ardiff suddenly. "Wait guys." He pointed to the map and looked up. "It's not on here. I guess it...doesn't exist."  
  
Smith nodded. "Alright then, Tatooine it is." He shook Ardiff's hand. "Nice doing business with you."  
  
Pellaeon rose. "Grodin, change our heading and set course for Tatooine."  
  
The ship dropped out of hyperspace for a moment and quickly did a U-turn. As the garbage was dumped from the ship, the copy of 'Vector Prime' shot out into vacuum, before the shuttle returned to lightspeed.  
  
  
Ten minutes later, their shuttle entered the Tatooine system. Grodin looked to Smith nervously, who was sitting next to him in the co-pilot seat. "Should I request permission to land?"  
  
"Why bother?" came the answer. "No one ever does. Just aim for a clearing and try to bring her down as gently as you can." He paused. "And failing that, well we're sure to bounce off all the...." He looked carefully at the brownish-yellowy planet. "What is all that?"  
  
"It's sand."  
  
"Oh. Well, that should make finding a clearing a whole lot easier then."  
Grodin looked over his controls, as he began his descent into the planet and wondered what was the best way to handle this. Part of him felt like letting the shuttle drop like a rock to the surface, while another part thought it would be hilarious if he landed with everything fine, except that the landing gears were forgotten and the ship made a thud with it's impact.  
  
But he did neither of those things and simply drove downwards and parked the shuttle next to a giant hole in the ground. The sarlacc that was nesting inside poked it's head out and tried to give the shuttle a nibble, but Grodin responded by putting the ship in reverse and backing it up into the sarlacc several times, a beeping sound emanating as he did. A giant smoosh was left, as the ship stopped.   
  
They opened the front door and the Tierces were the first to bound down the ramp into the sun. "Woooh," yelled Arvin, "welcome to paradise, baby!"  
  
"Last one in's a something something."   
  
The others had meanwhile followed them down the ramp and were standing in the hot sunlight. "Last one in what?" asked Pellaeon.  
  
"The," began Arvin, turning around to face the opposite direction, "water....?" Behind him was not at all what he'd expected. No colourful umbrellas, no towels with half-naked men or women laying in the suns, nobody saying 'silly' to try to convey something that was of no actual relevance to this matter. No water of any kind. "But....," he began. "I'm at the beach. At the beach, dammit!" He looked to them. "Do you feel it too, the awkwardness of the situation, the foolishness of what we feel?"  
  
"I don't know," said Smith.  
  
"Hey," said Grodin quietly, "don't fret. We'll find you a beach, even if we have to watch that ol' Bette Midler movie." He turned back to the others, raising his hand to block the suns. "Are there any beaches on this planet, guys?"  
  
Pellaeon shook his head. "As far as I can tell this place only exports beaches, it doesn't have any, per se." Smith muttered something under his breath, but Pellaeon noticed. He looked at Ardiff and the others. "Come on," he said, starting to walk off. "Let's go find a city and see what this planet has to offer."  
  
"That doesn't sound like an odd thing to do," Smith said, following Pellaeon. "No, not at all." The others began to follow, while Ardiff pointed a device at the shuttle and turned the alarm on.  
  
Pellaeon smiled, as he slowly turned back to the others. "Everybody remember where we park...oh." Their shuttle had been replaced by a strange shuttle-sized mound of sand. He turned back and the group continued walking.   
  
  
Meanwhile, back onboard the Chimaera, a very large amount of measurement away from Tatooine, Thrawn was nodding. He held a phone against one ear, his hand doodling some drawings onto a piece of paper as that particular person continued speaking. Finally their conversation ended and Thrawn hung up, sitting back in his chair for a moment.   
  
There was a beep as the clock hit five o'clock. He heard the intercom speaker emit a crackle and then Rukh's voice came through. "I'm clocking off now."  
  
"Okay," Thrawn replied absently.  
  
Down at the entrance to the lair Rukh punched his number into the computer and then walked out the door, switching off the main lights but leaving a lamp on.   
  
Thrawn looked over a report on his computer, typing in some commands so he could reply to it. Underneath his desk his heater was making it's usual energetic sound, which added to the environment when he was active. But when he was resting or even asleep it was annoying. The sounds of the keys as he typed were making a clickity-clack sound and he rubbed his chin before pushing the spacebar and typing out a sentence. He looked over at his holoprojectors, as usual displaying some pieces of art. There was several pictures of Kirsty Lee, a clothing label's premier model, displayed with some other models as well though he didn't know their names. There were also some scenes or natural occurence around the galaxy, such as a waterfall in a green jungle, a beach at sunset with the sky orange and a dining scene with several aliens around a table with peas, carrots, potato wedges and seasoned Mon Calamari.   
  
Thrawn was bored. And he knew that he was bored. Normally when he was bored something would distract him, like his plans to conquer the Rebellion reaching some stage of fruitation. Or his PlayStation. Or even Captain Pellaeon. But Pellaeon had gone holidaying and his PlayStation had busted and he hadn't got around to getting it fixed.   
  
He tapped a key and the holoprojectors once again showed a scrolling marquee. Where do I want to go today? he asked himself. The answer was simple. "Anywhere." Not in a celestial sense, with the Chimaera taking him new places. Thrawn rose from his chair and headed for the exit. He was going for a walk.   
  
  
As the sandstorm faded away five men slowly approached the outskirts of Mos Eiley. Several extras were walking around aimlessly, past some bits of spaceship hull and the varying degrees of low buildings, while landspeeders filled the streets. Several Jawas drove by in a Mitsubishi Sigma, towing a caravan on the back.  
  
Pellaeon shook his hair and some more sand fell out, mixing with the crud beneath his feet. He looked at the others who appeared as dishevelled as he, Ardiff coughing a huge dustball into the air.  
  
"Well," said Pellaeon. "We're here. Mos Eisley. Wow."  
  
Walking along for a minute they finally stopped next to an icecream truck. Smith looked at the poster displaying the various icecreams and prices. "Can I get a double chocolate cone with strawberry topping," he stated rather than asked. Grodin Tierce bought a Maxibon, while Arvin had a Cornetto and Ardiff, surprisingly, had a Gaytime. Pellaeon simply ordered a diet Dr. Pepper and got a free Mr. Whippy fizzle straw, that was supposed to glow in the dark, plus curved around and around and around.  
  
Finally they sat down on a bench to discuss what should eventuate. "Who's having fun yet?" asked Ardiff.  
  
"This sucks," barked Smith. "I've inhaled so much sand you'd think I was smoking the stuff. And just what exactly is there to do on this planet?"   
  
"Yeah," added Arvin, "why did you suggest this planet anyway? I know we all voted for this planet but what's so interesting about it?"  
  
"Well," began Pellaeon, "Tatooine is one of those seedy planet's where adventures abound. I was assuming we'd get mixed up in one of those, or at least find someone that had."  
  
Pellaeon nodded, looking around for a moment, as some seegeeiis walked by. He was feeling rather sluggish, and as he looked to the others, he noticed they were too. Nothing was eventuating and, with a slight headache and tiredness settling in, he wasn't sure if he wanted it to anyway. But he knew it must. "We should do something."  
  
"Hmmm," murmured Ardiff. He gave a smile and shook his head at something. "The main thing we've got to do is not got waylayed by distractions and obstacles, but keep going. We can still find one of those adventures. But we should find some accommodation."   
  
"What about that place?" asked Grodin, gesturing to a telegraph pole. A poster was stapled into the pole, displaying some sort of hotel out in the sandhills.  
  
The five agreed that it wasn't that bad a choice. They all boarded a bus for their destination, Jabba's Palace.  
  
  
  
Bright neon lights shone before them with a huge Jabba's Palace of Pleasure sign displayed from the hotel's roof. The bus drove through the garage door and pulled up behind several landspeeders, where the passenger disembarked.   
  
They entered into the lobby where several Gammorean guards were standing around, a blue coloured Twi'lek at the main desk. Pellaeon and his companions approached her to acquire some rooms for their overnight stay.  
  
"How many rooms was that?" she asked, looking up.  
  
He looked at the others for a second. "Five," he answered  
  
"Four."  
  
"Four," Pellaeon corrected himself  
  
When they'd left the lobby, they'd purchased one room.   
  
"So where exactly are our rooms then?" asked Smith.   
  
Arvin looked over a brochure, as they continued walking. "It's down a couple of floors. Just above the dungeon suites."  
  
"Down?"   
  
"Yup," answered Arvin, pointing to a staircase. "Down." They all began to descend.  
  
"So what's with the rest of the palace then? What's that big silo out there for? Storing grain?"  
  
Pellaeon gave Smith a look. "What silo?"  
  
"You know," he began. "Oh. You don't. Never mind."   
  
"Any one want to go down to see him?" asked Grodin, leading them up a corridor. They all gave him a look.  
  
"Who's that then?"  
  
"Jabba," he replied.   
  
"From Channel V?" Pellaeon asked, referring to the music show.  
  
There was a very long pause. "Jabba the Hutt."  
  
The four other men looked around at each other. "Isn't he dead?"   
  
  
Thrawn found himself outside the Chimaera's cinema looking up at the huge candybar. It was about twelve feet long, and composed entirely of duracrete and plasteel and even glastic, coloured black with red writing stating it's name. It was a twelve foot long Mars bar. A sliver of drool ran from his mouth, as he was suddenly whirled around to stare into the face of Rukh.  
  
"Admiral?" he said in a bewildered voice. "Are you okay?"  
  
Thrawn gasped for air towards him, his brow feverish with sweat on his cheeks. "Did you see that? Oh, it was beautiful. I've never seen anything like it. Well, aside from the regular-sized versions. Oh but I mean to say-" He broke off for a moment. "I just have to use the bathroom....now."  
  
Rukh waited outside the door, hissing at anyone that approached towards the bathroom. After a few minutes he became restless and started clawing at the door; he didn't know why, it just seemed like something to do.   
  
The door opened and Thrawn stepped up to his bodyguard. "Ah, Rukh," said Thrawn. He coughed for a moment. And then there was a pause. "Let's go see a movie," he said finally.  
  
"Um," began Rukh. He looked around for some sort of plot device to distract them. A mouse droid ran past. "Sure. Okay." They approached the cashier.   
  
"Hey."  
  
"Good specific time of the day to you," greeted Thrawn. "Can I have one adult and one child ticket.... for 'Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back', my good droid."   
  
The droid looked at Thrawn and gestured to Rukh. "Your child?"  
  
"Yes," he said proudly. "This is my son, umm, Grand Admiral Thrawn...junior."  
  
So they recieved their tickets and moved into the theatre to take their seats, looking around at the others already seated. The theatre was already half-full but it still seemed, though, as if it were half-empty. There were several dozen stormtroopers already seated around the back and sides, their enthusiasm obviously built up to a large degree from seeing 'Trooper Clerks'. Thrawn could understand it, to a degree. If there'd been a fan film called 'Admiral Clerks', with himself as Dante and Captain Pellaeon as Randal he'd have viewed it. It wouldn't be true art but would've been entertaining.   
  
Thrawn and Rukh took seats in the middle of the middle row, behind several Greedo-looking aliens. "Do you think they will mention 'Phantom Menace' in this one?" Thrawn whispered to Rukh.  
  
The Noghri looked back at him. "No. Why would they?"  
  
"Well," began Thrawn, "in every Kevin Smith movie there is some Star Wars movie reference dropped in for comic results." He held his hand, indicating with his fingers as he spoke. " 'Clerks' there is the piece about the construction workers on the Death Star. 'Mallrats, the plans to the Death Star and it's notable design flaw compared to Silent Bob's attack on the stage's pin. Not to mention the Jedi mind tricks. And 'Chasing Amy' with the inference to the trilogy as nothing more than a racist attack, the embodiment of evil is black, while the side of light is white."  
  
He paused. "But all of what it's inspired from was created twenty years ago and is a part of culture. And along comes a new addition to the icon and there's really only one of two ways you can take it. Either good or bad. Either way it's fresh material for reference."  
  
Rukh nodded. "So you think he will?"  
  
"Possibly. Depends on what he thought of it. Immaculate conceptions. Politics within the Republic. Jar-Jar Binks. It's a part now so to avoid it would seem to deny it. But avoiding the discussion of plot itself and how it applies to anything, it could be as simple as someone saying this is or is not what to do."  
  
"If that's the case," murmured Rukh.  
  
"Let's just say it will be interesting."  
  
They heard someone yell something from the rear of the cinema. "Will you shut the truck up?"  
  
"No, you shut the truck up, you dumbass martha trucker!" yelled Rukh back.  
  
"Yeaaah!" came a sound from somewhere around the theatre.  
  
An usher moved up to them, an alien with vegetables growing out of his head. "Excuse me sir, but your voice is scary. I don't think you want to be talking like that out loud."   
  
Thrawn gave him a look. "Okay."  
  
  
  
Pellaeon looked across the room to where someone who should've been dead was looking very much alive. Jabba the Hutt was seated in his big giant chair with wheels, numerous associates around him. A scantily clad Imogen Bailey dressed in the exact same bikini that Princess Leia, and Rachel from 'Friends', had worn previously, was sitting next to him.  
  
"Oh my god," said Ardiff finally.  
  
Arvin was looking at Imogen's chest intently. "Oh whoa. I'd never thought I'd see anything so...." He turned to the others. "I have one of them in the exact same colour," he explained. His eyes became slits. "That son of a sith that sold me it said I was the only one."   
Smith shook his head and turned to Ardiff. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
Ardiff's face dropped. "I hope not."  
  
"Do you think I should offer for a lapdance?" asked Smith eagerly.   
  
Grodin shrugged. "I don't know. Jabba might prefer her giving him one. Sorry."  
  
"I meant offer to pay her to give me a lapdance," he replied heatedly.  
  
"Oh. Then that might be okay. Though don't expect a good response."  
  
"Why?" asked Smith.  
  
"You're more his type than hers."  
  
Smith gave him a look and after glancing around moved away to get a drink. As the two Tierce's spoke, Pellaeon motioned to Ardiff. 


End file.
